Three Brothers
by meetmeinstlouie
Summary: A look into the world from my fic Jolene, from the perspective of Charles and Elsie's sons. Lots of fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this plot bunny popped up in my head last night and refused to go away. It's not an entirely original idea; just a window into the Chelsie world I wrote in my fic _Jolene_. Unlike that story, I intend this to be almost entirely fluffy. Because the world needs more fluffiness. And Chelsie kids. **

**I didn't write much of them in Jolene (that story is like 90 percent angst), so this will be ficlets from their point of view. For those who haven't read _Jolene_ , the title of this is in reference to the Carson children.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Alex was five years old. He liked lots of things.

He liked playing with cars and trucks on the back porch at his house. Sometimes he played with Chris and Eddie. Sometimes they played in the family room, in front of the fireplace. Sometimes Da got on the floor and played with them.

Food! Alex really, _really_ liked food. Like his Da. Once, when he was four, he went into the kitchen and found apple tart, fresh out of the oven.

He ate all of it.

Da always ate a lot of apple tart, and Da was the tallest man he knew. If he, Alex, ate the apple tart, he'd grow big and strong.

Just like Da.

But he didn't grow big and strong.

He got sick.

It was awful.

He didn't like apple tart anymore.

"Can you guess, Alex?" Daisy cleaned the counter in front of him. "What's Aunt Beryl making for dessert?"

It was afternoon at The Red Fox. After Da picked him up after kindergarten, he always brought him to work with him. Sometimes Alex stayed in Da's office at the hotel and played on the floor. Sometimes if Uncle Tom wasn't too busy, he'd let him play behind the huge desk in the lobby. People always smiled at him there.

Sometimes Da or Uncle Tom walked with him through the long hallway from Downton to Aunt Beryl's restaurant, where Mam worked.

When Alex started kindergarten, they started letting him walk there alone.

He liked that.

It made him feel big.

Eddie and Chris still went to preschool. They stayed with Aunt Anna and their cousins during the rest of the day. Like Alex used to.

He didn't look up from his picture, scribbling with the blue crayon. He liked blue.

"If you guess right, she'll let you have some," Daisy said. "It's almost time for your snack."

"Can I have some milk?" He asked. He looked up because he needed to find the purple crayon. He reached for it before it rolled further away from him. Daisy grinned.

"May I."

He sighed loudly. " _May_ I have some milk?" She raised her eyebrows, and he remembered. "Please?"

"Yes, you may. One cup of milk, coming right up." She set out a cup and walked back into the kitchen.

The door to the outside opened. It was Mr. Mason. He was what Aunt Beryl called one of her "rebulars". What rebulars were, Alex didn't know.

The grocery man carried two crates of milk behind the swinging doors. He came out again and sat down next to Alex.

"Hello, Alex," he said. "Are you drawing a picture today?"

Alex didn't know why Mr. Mason asked a question when he could see what he was doing. But he knew he shouldn't be rude.

He liked Mr. Mason. At the grocery store he always gave Alex and his brothers a candy bar to share.

"Yeah," he said. He grabbed the yellow crayon and pressed it down on the paper. He bit his lip, concentrating.

Daisy poured a carton of milk into Alex's cup. She and Mr. Mason talked, but Alex wasn't interested in what they were saying.

He was almost finished with his picture.

Setting down his crayon, he glanced at Daisy and Mr. Mason. They didn't notice.

The floor was a long way away.

He turned around, his picture clutched in his hand.

He dropped to the floor.

Three ladies sitting in a booth heard and saw him, and laughed.

Alex darted around the side of the bar. The big doors to the hotel were closer, but he couldn't push them open by himself. Just as he reached the swinging door to the back hallway, he heard Daisy call for him.

Mam's office door was open.

"Mam!" He cried, waving his picture. "I drew you a picture!" He ran around her desk and stood behind her chair.

Mam turned around from her computer. "Inside voice, my lad," she said, taking off her glasses. But she smiled and took the picture, so he knew she wasn't _really_ mad at him. "Ooh, how lovely! Tell me about it."

Alex leaned against her chair. She put her arm around his shoulders. Mam was warm, and she always smelled nice.

Maybe that was why Da liking kissing her.

He pointed at the picture. "This is the mountain by our house. And there's the trees by Solomon Creek, and there's Da and me fishing, and there's you."

"It's beautiful! I like the colors. Thank you, lad." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Daisy came to the doorway. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Carson," she said. "I thought he was sitting there, and then he wasn't."

 _Uh oh._

He squirmed, trying to wriggle out of Mam's arms. She held him tight.

"Alexander."

He knew that voice.

He didn't like it. It meant she wasn't happy.

"Did you come back here without telling Daisy?"

He thought about saying no. But she was Mam.

She'd _know._

She always knew.

"Uhm hmm."

He didn't like it when Da got mad. He really didn't like it when Mam was. She hardly ever yelled, but when she was mad, it made him want to run and hide.

"That was very wrong." Her breath tickled his face. She tilted his chin up, making him look her in the eye. Da said they had the same eyes.

"You need to apologize to Daisy. Now." She let go of him so he could turn around.

"S-sorry, Daisy," he mumbled.

"I accept your apology." She tilted her head. "I thought you wanted a snack. If your mum will let you have one." She looked at Mam, and Alex held his breath.

Mam nodded.

He let out his breath.

He really, really, really liked Aunt Beryl's desserts _._

Daisy opened the office door wider. "It should be just about done. Have you guessed what it is yet? Here's a hint – it's not apple tart."

Alex made a face. Then he sniffed. The smell of something really good came from the kitchen. "Um…cake! Is it cake? Chocolate!"

Laughing, Mam stood up behind him. "It smells wonderful. I think I might have some, too."

She lifted him back onto his stool at the bar. Aunt Beryl was talking to Mr. Mason.

On the counter was a plate with a piece of chocolate cake, with strawberries on top.

And his cup of milk was there, too.

Alex started eating his cake while Mam talked to Aunt Beryl and Mr. Mason. Daisy brought her a cup of tea and an extra fork. Mam cut off a corner of his cake and put it in her mouth.

"Mmmm," she sighed. She sipped her tea and smiled at Alex. "Delicious. Aunt Beryl says she'll make more for your brothers' birthday next week. Isn't it good?"

He nodded, chewing, humming along to the music playing in the restaurant.

He liked listening to music. He liked the guitar he'd gotten for Christmas. Someday he'd have a real one.

When he was big.

There were so many he things he liked, and so many were in this room.

Music, chocolate cake, sitting on the stool at the bar. Drawing a picture. Daisy, Mr. Mason, Aunt Beryl.

Mam rubbed her thumb over his lip. "You have a milk moustache," she laughed. She kissed his forehead and cut another piece off his cake.

He liked her laugh.

Of all the things Alex liked, he liked Mam best.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This little chapter takes place (mostly) in a wine cellar. Recently, the very talented Edward Carson wrote a canon one-shot about Charles Carson in a wine cellar. It's excellent – go and read it! Sometimes people in the fandom get similar ideas without telling each other. It's like we're all on the same wavelength...**

 **I hope you like the second part of this "Jolene" AU. It's from the perspective of the second son. If you have any suggestions, or things you would like to see, let me know. I don't intend for this to turn into a linear story; just snippets of life. But I've been doing this long enough to know that "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men / Gang aft a-gley".**

 ***First grade / third grade – In the U.S., first grade is the first level in school above kindergarten. The children are usually 6-7 years old. Third graders are 8-9 years old.**

* * *

The smell of bacon and coffee reached Chris's nose when Da opened the door. But it was the donuts underneath the counter that made his mouth water. He pressed his nose against the glass.

His favorite donut was the one with sprinkles.

"Not _now_ , Christopher," Da put his big hand on Chris's shoulder. "You can have one later. After we're finished."

"I'll put it aside for you." Alfred smiled at Chris from behind the counter. "Don't worry, it's yours."

Chris sucked in his breath.

He didn't want to wait.

Aunt Beryl came out of the kitchen behind Alfred. She put her hands on her hips and straightened her glasses.

"Who's this young man here? You're not tempted by the apple turnovers, so you're not Eddie. And you're not drooling over the chocolate éclairs. So not Alex…no, this boy wants the sprinkled donut, so he must be-"

"ME!" shouted Chris, jumping up in the air. Every Saturday morning it was the same. Aunt Beryl came around the counter and gave him a hug.

"You," she rubbed his head. "The one and only Chris! Alfred made that donut especially just for you, early this morning." She straightened up. "I see you brought your _old_ father with you."

Da groaned. "I was offered the senior discount _once_ …"

Aunt Beryl laughed. "You're not the only one with more wrinkles, Charlie Carson! Age catches up with us all. Well come on," she untied the knot of her flour-covered apron, taking it off. "You both had better come with me. The sooner you're done, the sooner your lad can have his donut." She winked at Chris.

Alfred held out his hand as Chris walked behind the counter. They fist-bumped.

Miss Lucy, Aunt Beryl's niece, grinned at him. The fryer crackled in front of her. Ivy waved from the corner sink.

"Where's Daisy?" He asked her.

"She's working on a paper that's due Monday," Ivy called. She smiled when he looked confused. "She has a lot of homework, so she's doing that today. She'll be here tomorrow, though, and next week as usual."

"Oh. Okay," he said. Sometimes Alex had homework.

Third grade was _hard_ , his older brother said. Not like first grade.*

Chris was glad he was still in first grade.

"Keep up," Da called. Chris scurried after him and Aunt Beryl.

She unlocked a door after they had gone through the kitchen. Handing the keys to Da, she said, "I'll leave you to it, then. The shipment came on Thursday. I checked it, of course, but I know you'll want to make sure it's all there."

Chris waited until Da had opened the door wide and turned on the light. There were a lot of stairs to get to the bottom.

Into the wine cellar.

The overhead lights reflected on the many glass bottles. Some had yellowish liquid (which Da called white), and some had dark purple (which Da called red).

Every Saturday morning since the spring he had come there with Da.

Alex didn't want to come. He would rather play his guitar, or read, or watch TV. Eddie would rather watch cartoons with Alex, or play outside.

Chris was different.

He loved going with Da and helping him.

He kept his jacket on. It was cold in the wine cellar, even in the summer.

Da pulled out his glasses and picked up the list from the shelf. In the middle of the narrow cellar was a table. On it and beneath it were several crates.

"How many of the Joseph Phelps are there? There should be four," Da said. Chris scanned the crates on the table. It was easy for him to read what they said. He was tall for his age.

That was what Dr. Clarkson and Mam said.

"One…two…" he hummed under his breath and peered underneath the table, "…and there's one…and another one! Four!"

"Good. What _kind_ are they?" Da looked over his glasses, grinning.

"Um…" Chris could read well, but the wines had _strange_ names. Which were hard to say right. He squinted at the crates on the table. "These are Cabernet Sav…Sav…"

"Cabernet Sauvignon," Da finished. He nodded in approval when Chris repeated it correctly. "It's not easy to say, is it? Not many seven-year-olds can. Go on, you're doing well. Be careful you don't hit your head on the table."

Chris ducked his head to read the other crates on the floor. "This one is a Cabernet Sauvignon, and that one is a Insignia."

"Very good! You remembered that one," Da's eyes twinkled. "It's been a long time since we've gotten that."

He continued going down the list while Chris counted. Then he opened the crates and very carefully removed the bottles, setting them on the table so Chris could count those.

They finished counting, and Da started checking bottles that were already on the shelves. He called it doing "invitory". Chris helped him for a while.

Before he got bored.

He sat on the little stool in the corner and talked to Da. He wanted to play with Da's phone, but he wasn't allowed.

Mam sometimes let them play with _her_ phone. But not Da.

No matter how hard they begged.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Da said, reaching higher on one of the shelves.

Chris leaned forward. "Yeah! What is it?" Da raised his eyebrows.

"If I tell you, you can't tell Alex or Eddie. They don't know. Your mother does."

That didn't surprise Chris. Mam knew _everything._ "What's the surprise?"

"You know that Mr. Branson has been dating his girlfriend for a while now."

Chris nodded. He liked Miss Sybil. She was just as much fun as Uncle Tom.

"Well, she'll be visiting next week, and when she's here, Mr. Branson's going to ask her to marry him."

"WHAT!?" Chris yelled. He fell off of the stool, and flopped onto the floor. " _Really?_ "

Da laughed at him. "Yes, really. What do you think?"

"It's good!" Uncle Tom was always happy, but he seemed _really_ happy when Miss Sybil came to visit. "Wait…" he sat up. "He won't…move _away_ after they get married, will he? She doesn't live here!"

"He will move. But only to a bigger home," Da told him. "Miss Crawley doesn't live very far away now. You know she works at the same hospital as Dr. Clarkson. She and Mr. Branson will live somewhere between there and here. He's not leaving the hotel," he said as Chris climbed onto the stool again. "He likes it here, don't worry."

They both heard a funny buzzing sound at the same time.

"My phone," Da said, turning to glance at the table. "Where did I put my phone? It's not there…"

Chris heard the buzzing behind him. He reached back and picked up the phone.

"It's Uncle Thomas!" he yelled. "He wants to FaceTime!"

"Go on and answer it before he hangs up," Da said. "I'm nearly done."

Chris hit the green button. A moment later Uncle Thomas appeared on the screen.

"Hello!" he said. His eyes were wide. "Just the lad I was hoping to see! But how did you get your Da's phone? He won't like it if he finds you with it – and he'll probably blame me!"

"I will not," boomed Da on the other side of the cellar. "For once." Chris laughed.

"He _told_ me to answer the phone when I saw it was you. We're in the wine cellar."

"Ah, that's why it looks so dark. I should have known you'd be there – it's Saturday morning!"

"Where are you?" Chris asked. He could see blue sky behind his godfather. His black hair blew in the wind. Uncle Thomas smiled.

"Where _I_ usually am on a Saturday morning." He flipped the picture so Chris could see. The ocean crashed onto the beach on the left. Uncle Thomas walked along a wooden sidewalk. His dog Mimi trotted in front of him on her leash.

"Ooh," Chris said. He clutched the phone, staring at the ocean. "Wow!"

Uncle Thomas lifted his dog off the ground. "Who's that?" he asked her. "Someone wants to see you."

"Hi, Mimi!" Chris waved. He grinned when the dog barked back at him. "Where's Uncle Eduardo?"

"He had a breakfast meeting in Palm Beach this morning. He said to tell you hello." Uncle Thomas put Mimi down and switched the picture back to himself.

"Da?" Chris looked up. He suddenly had an idea. "Can I tell Uncle Thomas the secret? He's far away."

Da continued his work. "Go on and tell him."

"What secret?" Uncle Thomas's eyes lit up. "I love secrets…is your Mam pregnant again? Or is Anna?"

Chris rolled his eyes. " _No-o_ ," he stretched the word out. He didn't know why grown-ups got so excited about babies. They couldn't walk or play. They couldn't even talk. Aunt Anna and Uncle John's twin girls, Nina and Nora, only babbled to each other. "Uncle Tom's going to ask Miss Sybil to marry him!"

"Well, it's about time he did! That's wonderful! But why is it secret?"

"She doesn't know he's going to ask her. Next week, when she visits."

"Ah, I see." Uncle Thomas asked him about school. Da came over and they talked a little. Mostly about when Uncle Thomas was coming to pick up Chris for spring break.

Chris was _so_ excited about it. It was going to be his first real trip. And it wasn't to Lexington, or Chicago. Uncle Thomas was taking him to Florida. He lived there with Uncle Eduardo.

Chris was a little nervous about it. He was excited to fly on an airplane, and to play on the beach.

But he had never been away from home without his family.

Well, Uncle Thomas and Uncle Eduardo and Mimi were family, too.

But they weren't Mam and Da. Or Alex and Eddie.

Still, he knew he'd have fun. He always had fun with Uncle Thomas.

It was cool that his godfather was only taking _him_ to Florida.

Like he was the only one who helped Da in the wine cellar.

That was just for him.

Christopher.

He said goodbye, and Da ended the phone call. They went back up the stairs. It was much warmer right next to the kitchen. Da turned off the light in the wine cellar and locked the door.

They picked up a box of yummy things before they left the restaurant. An apple turnover for Eddie, a chocolate éclair for Alex. Some lemon cookies for Mam. Aunt Beryl asked Da what he wanted, but he said he didn't want anything.

While he paid Alfred, she snuck a fresh glazed donut into the box and winked at Chris. "He can never resist something sweet," she whispered. "Like your Mam. Or my baking."

Da had just turned the keys in the truck when Chris couldn't stand it anymore.

"Can I eat my donut now? _Pleeeeeease?_ "

"All right," laughed Da as they pulled out of the parking lot. "But use a napkin. They're in the box."

Chris watched the trees fly past as they drove home. His sprinkled donut was _so good_. He didn't notice the crumbs he left on the backseat, or on the floor.

Or the icing around his mouth.

He was happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: These keep getting longer. I don't mean to show favoritism towards one lad over the others. But Eddie's story is special to me. The details are a little heavy, but there's still plenty of fluff here.**

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't _fair._

Chris, his own twin brother, had gotten to go with Uncle Thomas on a trip. He got to fly on an _airplane_. To Florida.

To stay with Uncle Thomas, Uncle Eduardo, and Mimi.

For a _week_.

It. Wasn't. FAIR.

And then the day after Uncle Thomas and Chris had left, his cousin Brandon had driven down from Lexington. Aunt Becky and Uncle Adam had wanted Alex and Eddie to come stay with them during spring break.

Lexington wasn't Florida, but at least it was a city. And Eddie always liked visiting his aunt and uncle. And his cousins.

Even though they were all older, they were still fun. Liza, Emily and Jason always did fun things with Eddie and his brothers when they visited. Taking them horseback riding, or to basketball games, or to laser tag.

Last year, Brandon had gotten married. His wife Vanessa had a son. Jalen was almost eight, and was _really_ fun to play with. He asked Brandon to bring Alex, Chris and Eddie to Lexington almost every weekend.

But when Brandon came, Mam and Da wouldn't let Eddie go with him.

He had gotten sick earlier that morning.

"But I _want_ to go!" Eddie had begged Mam and Da. "I'm feeling better! I can still go to Aunt Becky's house-"

"No, you cannot," Mam had said, her lips pressed together. "You likely have the flu that we all had last week. I won't have you go there and make them all ill." She had glanced at Brandon. "And I doubt your cousin would like it if you threw up in his car."

"Ew, gross," Alex had muttered, pinching his nose shut.

Da had put his hand on Eddie's head. He'd wanted to shake it off.

 _I'm seven! Not a baby!_

"You have a fever too, my lad," he had said. "You can go to Lexington another time."

And so Eddie stayed at home. Sick.

While his brothers went off and had fun.

It wasn't _fair._

"At least it's spring break, and you don't have to miss school," Mam said that night, wiping his head with a cool cloth.

That was unfair, too! He was sick, and he wasn't even missing school! It was like being sick in the summer!

Da came back into the bedroom carrying the now-clean bowl and a cup. He set both on the little table by Eddie's bed.

"Here's some ice for you," he said. Eddie sat up against his pillows.

Da gave him a little piece of ice to suck on. Eddie's lips were cracked. The ice tasted good in his mouth, but his stomach didn't like it-

Mam grabbed the bowl just in time.

"My poor baby," she said. Da took the bowl from her hands and held it steady.

"I am _not_ a baby," Eddie muttered after he'd spat into the bowl one last time.

Mam didn't seem to hear it.

She sat on the edge of the bed and held him. Despite his anger at her calling him a baby, he relaxed in her arms.

Being sick made him tired.

"I hate seeing him like this," Eddie heard her whisper. "Any of them sick is bad enough, but…" Her breath tickled his hair.

"This is the worst of it, I'm sure," Da said to her. He leaned over and kissed Eddie's hair. "I'll stay with him tonight. I don't want _you_ getting it again."

Eddie swallowed the medicine Mam gave him and was asleep before Da came back in.

* * *

He was sick twice more during the night. Da kept giving him ice chips, and carried him to the bathroom once.

When Eddie woke up in the morning, he felt _much_ better.

He was hungry.

"Good!" Mam said. The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "I'll get you something."

"Can I have pancakes?"

" _May_ I. And no, you may not. Not until you're better. I'll make you tea, and you can have some crackers. And _maybe_ some dry toast for you in a while after you've eaten that," she said.

He drank the tea and ate the crackers. By the afternoon, he was hungry again.

He was glad to be hungry.

The toast and soup he ate tasted really good.

Two days later, he was almost back to normal. His stomach was still complaining a little, but he hadn't been nearly as sick as the day when Alex left.

"I'm _bored_ ," he whined from the couch in the family room. He set the Ipad aside. Mam had locked it so he couldn't stay on it too long.

It was nice to FaceTime with Chris. But it made him wish he was in Florida, too.

Books were stacked on the side table and scattered on the floor. Eddie had read most of them. He had watched some TV with Mam, and an old movie, _The Adventures of Robin Hood_ , with Da the night before.

He had fought Da to a draw in chess that afternoon.

"There's nothing to _dooo_." He sank back against the cushions. If it wasn't raining, he would have gone and played on the deck. It had a little roof. But raindrops drummed against the windows.

"If you're well enough to whine, you're well enough to work," Mam said from the kitchen.

 _Ugh. I HATE when she says that!_

Eddie winced, hoping she wouldn't say anything more.

"You can help me dry the rest of the dishes."

He rolled his eyes, dragging his feet all the way into the kitchen. He grabbed the dish towel from the rack so hard it snapped almost like a whip.

"I'm glad you're here." Mam's voice was quiet underneath the running water in the sink. She smiled down at him. "I don't often get a chance to spend time with _just_ you. Neither does Da."

He hadn't thought about that. Having a twin and an older brother, there was always someone else around.

"Where is Da?"

She lifted a pan from the soapy water and set it on the drying mat. "He's doing some work in our bedroom. He should be done soon. Charlie," she called. "Are you finished? We'll be done shortly."

"Almost," Da rumbled from behind the closed door.

Eddie bit his lip drying the serving spoon. He didn't want to smear it, but the spoon didn't want to be dried.

"It doesn't have to be perfect," Mam told him, stacking more of the dishes she'd finished on the stove. She bent over and kissed him on the cheek. "No matter _what_ your Da says."

They laughed together.

"Who wants to play a game?" Da said a few minutes later. He raised his eyebrows at Eddie. "We don't have many games for just three, but we have a few. Or would you like a rematch of chess?"

It was tempting. But Eddie didn't feel like playing a game.

"Um…you read to us sometimes," he began.

Mam's eyes brightened. "That's a lovely idea! It's been a long time since Da read to us."

"Something good for a rainy spring evening," Da said, going into the family room. He peered at the tall bookshelves. "What would be a good story…"

" _No_ ," Eddie stomped his foot. "I don't want _you_ to read! I can read, too!"

"We know you can, bairn," Mam lifted his chin gently. "There's no need to shout."

Sometimes she called Alex or Chris her baby. But she only used the word 'bairn' with Eddie.

He jerked himself away from her. "Don't call me that," he hissed, his fists clenched. He didn't know why he was so angry. He just wanted her and Da to stop calling him a baby. "My name is _Eddie_."

For a split second, he thought Mam would be angry. She blinked several times.

Then she turned towards Da, her shoulders slumped.

"All right, Eddie. We'll listen to you read. Whatever you like."

Her voice sounded thick.

Was she _crying?_

He looked across the room. Da watched Mam, a line between his eyes.

 _If I made her cry, I'll be in trouble._

Eddie gulped. "I-I'm sorry, Mam. I'm sorry I shouted." He went up behind her and put his arms around her waist. To his relief, she turned and hugged him back.

"I forgive you," she brushed at her eyes. "I sometimes have a hard time remembering how much you've grown."

"I'm not as tall as Chris, but he's only fourteen minutes older than me. I'll catch up."

Mam laughed. "I'll love you no matter how tall you are! And he's thirteen minutes older than you. Not fourteen. I think _I_ remember that."

"If anyone remembers correctly, it would be you," Da said. He sat down on the couch with a thick album in his hands. "Yes, here it is. Thirteen."

"Really?" Eddie asked. He sat down next to Da. Mam sat on his other side, so he was in the middle. "Chris always says fourteen."

"He's got it wrong," Da said. He laid the heavy book on Eddie's lap. It wasn't really a book, but an album with pictures and other things in it. "See? These are copies of your birth certificates."

Eddie looked to where he pointed. _Christopher Thomas Carson, 2:14 pm. Edward Charles Carson, 2:27 pm._

"Cool. I'm telling him when we talk tomorrow," he said. He turned the page and frowned. "I've seen this picture before."

 _Christopher and Edward, one week old,_ read the caption underneath. It was in Da's neat handwriting. He and Chris were tiny babies.

Well, he was tinier.

"He weighed six pounds, and you were barely five," Mam knew what he was thinking. "And he was an inch and a half longer." She put her arm around him.

"Yeah, I know," Eddie grumbled. Chris had always been bigger than him. His brother loved to remind him. "And I had to stay in the hospital longer."

"Do you know why?" Da asked. Eddie flipped the page. There was a picture of Alex with him and Chris at the hospital. Alex was little himself. Another picture was them with Aunt Becky and Aunt Beryl. And one with Uncle John and Aunt Anna. A picture of the front of the hotel, with a big banner over the doors. CONGRATULATIONS! TWIN BOYS! it read. There were two bunches of blue balloons, tied on either side.

"'Cause I was too little to leave, then I got sick," Eddie said impatiently. "I got a bad cold, or something."

"Pneumonia," Mam flipped the page. "The doctor thought you caught it from another baby."

Eddie's eyes widened. He had never seen the pictures on the next page.

They showed a skinny baby in some kind of glass box thing. There were tubes all over the baby and a big machine behind the box.

He knew it was him because the baby had a tuft of red hair. Both Alex and Chris had black hair like Da.

In one picture, Mam and Da were next to him and the box. They weren't looking at the camera. They were just looking at him.

"Is the new-new-was it bad?"

"Pneumonia. Yes, it was. You were in the hospital for more than a month." Da reached around him and put an arm around Mam, squishing them all closer together. Eddie didn't notice.

Mam and Da in the picture looked _worried_. Sad.

"You almost died," Mam murmured. "We came to the hospital every day. Some days Da slept there."

"Why didn't you?" asked Eddie.

"Your brothers needed me, too. Chris was a newborn, and Alex wasn't even two years old yet." She glanced at Da.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie muttered. They were babies. They couldn't take care of themselves.

Other pictures showed Da with his hand on Eddie. His hand covered him as well as a blanket. Another showed Mam holding him against her chest. Miss Sybil stood behind her chair, smiling down at them.

"Once you got better, and I could hold you again, I did!" Mam laughed. "I didn't want to let anyone hold you. Not even your father. You were my lucky bairn. You still are." She gave Eddie a squeeze. "Oh, you don't want me calling you that now."

He looked up at her. "It's okay if you want to call me that. Sometimes."

The pictures told him a story. He didn't mind as much as he did before.

"Thank you!" She grabbed him and kissed him. "My bairn, my wee bairn, I'll still call you that when you're twenty-"

Da laughed. "And she will. Always. When you graduate from school, when you bring a date home the first time…"

Eddie hugged Mam hard. They shared a secret glance and grinned.

They both attacked Da at the same time.

"No," Da tried to fight them off. Even he couldn't do it. He laughed harder, shaking the couch. "No, Eddie, you know I'm – Elsie!" he yelled when she tickled his belly. "That's not fair! Don't-"

They laughed so much they slipped onto the floor. Eddie stood up and wrapped his arms around Da. Da held his arms to keep him from tickling him again.

"No," he growled. But he was smiling.

"Oh, we are silly," Mam laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. She set the album on the table. "But that was fun."

They looked at some other albums together. Then Eddie read aloud from _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer._ They played Settlers of Catan. Mam won, but it was still fun. She and Da laughed a lot.

Eddie liked being funny, even if he didn't know why they laughed at some of the things he said. It was nice to play with just Mam and Da.

It wasn't so bad, being the baby.

By thirteen minutes.

He grinned to himself later in bed. He couldn't wait to tell Chris.


End file.
